The Hang Up (First Impressions)

by Tawna Fenske

  Truth be told, it turned him on.

  Which she’d probably noticed, considering how long her gaze had been fixed there. Well, no matter.

  He had more pressing things to think about right now than polished brunettes with lingering stares. Like the fact that he was running late for Henry’s appointment.

  Or the fact that he was starting a brand-new job on Monday. Holy hell, he still couldn’t believe it. Jason Sanders, CEO of the second-largest sporting goods retailer in America.

  Not that he was a complete neophyte when it came to running a recreation-focused business. The executive team at Urban Trax had seemed impressed with his experience operating his own outdoor adventure tour company for the past decade, and Jason certainly had the know-how to lead a large corporation like Urban Trax.

  He’d just never held a job that required footwear besides hiking boots.

  Jason pulled on the scrub top, relieved to discover it fit well. Miriam had sized him up perfectly. He grabbed the plastic bag that held his muddy clothes and shoes, then pulled open the bathroom door and walked into the living room.

  Miriam was seated on the sofa, stroking a hand over her cat’s back while she flipped through a fashion magazine. She looked up as he walked in, and he felt a wave of heat rush through his body.

  “The locksmith just called,” she said. “He’s five minutes out, so he should get to your place right about the time you do.”

  “Perfect,” he said. “Thanks again for the shower. And the clothes. I’ll wash them and run them by later this week.”

  “No need. Keep them. Consider them a housewarming gift or something.”

  “That’s a switch from a tray of cookies.”

  She laughed. “I’m not much of a cookie baker, so you’re better off with the scrubs.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to use that as an entrée, to ask her if she’d be willing to show him some of her favorite restaurants, maybe let him take her to dinner sometime.

  You don’t have time for that, he reminded himself. You’ve got enough on your plate taking care of Henry and Ellie. Don’t get distracted.

  Right. He cleared his throat. “Thanks again. Seriously, you really saved my butt here.”

  “Don’t mention it. Happy to help. I hate being dirty.”

  He bit his tongue again, pretty sure someone as prim and proper as Miriam would not appreciate a risqué retort. Then again, he’d seen how she’d looked at his junk.

  “I’d better get going,” he said as he turned toward the door. “It was great meeting you.”

  “You, too,” she agreed. “Good luck with everything.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “Maybe I’ll see you around the neighborhood.”

  “Maybe so,” he agreed, pretty sure he’d never see her again.

  Pity, that.

  …

  Miriam smoothed her hands down the front of her pencil skirt on Monday morning as she strode into the break room at First Impressions. Her best friend and co-owner, Holly, was already standing beside the coffeemaker with a dreamy look on her face.

  “Let me guess,” Miriam said as she nudged her pal aside to get to the coffee. “That hot new husband of yours either gave you back-to-back orgasms or a sausage breakfast sandwich.”

  “Both,” Holly admitted, then grinned wider as she scooted aside with a bright yellow coffee mug in on one hand.

  “Either way, I guess you got the sausage.” Miriam grabbed a bright red coffee mug and began to fill it. “You ready for this meeting?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. I loved those new concepts you worked up for the Sunstone account, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” Miriam took a sip of coffee and leaned back against the counter beside Holly. “Yuck. Is this decaf?”

  “Sorry. We were out of regular. I’ll grab more after work.”

  “Nah, it’s date night for you and Hottie McNerdy. I’ll get it.” She blew on her coffee and took another sip as she glanced down the hall toward the boardroom. “I still can’t believe we have to restart this whole rebrand process just because Urban Trax got a new CEO.”

  “Considering the old CEO got fired for embezzling, you can’t really blame them. Would you want to be tied to that baggage?”

  “A valid point. Still, those were some damn fine logos I drafted.”

  Holly shrugged and picked up the sugar bowl. “You’ll come up with something better. I have faith in you.” She stirred a teaspoon of sugar in her coffee, and Miriam wished for the millionth time that she had her best friend’s metabolism. Where Holly was sleek and svelte like a racehorse, Miriam had been built with a bursting abundance of curves. She wasn’t overweight, exactly. Just very very—

  “Va-va-voom,” Holly said, startling Miriam from her reverie.

  “What?”

  “That blouse you’re wearing. It’s very va-va-voom.”

  Miriam laughed. “Thanks. It’s Emilio Pucci.”

  “I have no idea what that means, but I want to touch it.”

  “By all means. Touch away.”

  Holly giggled and stroked a sleeve. “Very nice. Speaking of which, any signs of your naked neighbor?”

  “Not since he slunk away with his clothes in a garbage bag,” she said. “I consider it my good deed for the weekend.”

  “Only in your world does ogling a man’s junk count as a good deed.”

  “Just call me Mother Teresa.” Miriam brightened as she took a sip of her coffee. “Hey, maybe I’ll send Phuzeei down the street to push open his front door so I can get another glimpse at the goods.”

  “You’ve got that cat well-trained,” Holly said.

  “He knows what Mama likes.” Miriam nodded toward the clock. They still had two minutes to go, but besides a love of good wine and great marketing, she and Holly also shared a love of punctuality. “Shall we get in there and start the presentation?”

  “Yeah. The whole Urban Trax executive team is already in the boardroom. Lucy got them in there early with muffins and coffee.”

  “I guess it’s showtime, then.” Miriam set down her coffee and straightened her skirt. Then she reached up and tucked a stray lock back into Holly’s chignon. “Love the new highlights. Did Frederick do them?”

  “He did. Thanks for the recommendation.” Holly beamed, her cheeks practically glowing.

  Miriam dropped her hand from her best friend’s hair and clapped it to her own mouth. “No shit?”

  Holly blinked. “What?”

  “Decaf coffee? A dog-that-humped-the-sofa glow?” Miriam shook her head, laughing. “You’re knocked up!”

  “Shh!” Holly glanced around, then smiled and leaned closer. “I’m not sure yet,” she whispered. “I haven’t taken a pregnancy test, but I’m five days late and we have kinda been trying—”

  “Congratulations!” Miriam wrapped Holly in a big bear hug, careful not to wrinkle either of their outfits. Priorities. “I know you always wanted the whole package—the hot husband, the killer career, the pack of little monsters.” Miriam drew back and her best friend beamed.

  “It’s not confirmed, so don’t say anything,” Holly said. “I can’t believe you guessed.”

  “You’re easy to read,” Miriam said. “Mum’s the word, I promise.” Miriam grinned and picked up her mug again. A tiny prick of envy needled her in the gut, which was stupid. She’d always been on the fence about the whole kid thing herself. To be honest, the thought of young children kinda terrified her.

  But mostly, she was thrilled for her best friend. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get in there and show those Urban Trax bastards what we’re capable of.”

  “God help them.”

  Miriam turned and strode toward the boardroom. She felt confident and in control, which was pretty much par for the course when it came to work. She was hardly an expert in outdoor equipment, but she damn sure knew branding, and she knew what Urban Trax needed as a company—fresh energy, a little edge, a punch of passion.
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  Her brain was already churning out ad slicks and marketing copy, her imagination simmering with ideas for the TV campaign. Something understated and edgy with a touch of sex appeal and a heaping dose of outdoorsy authenticity. Think lumbersexual meets beer commercial.

  Yes, that was it. A campaign ringing with the unspoken suggestion that Urban Trax products would make you play harder, live better, and walk around with a hard-on three inches bigger than the average guy.

  As Miriam pushed open the door to the boardroom, her brain was echoing with the yet-to-be-created radio ads. She took two steps into the room—

  And froze.

  There, at the head of the table, sat someone who practically oozed sex appeal, outdoorsy authenticity, and lumbersexual edginess.

  And since she’d seen him naked in her bathroom two days ago, there was no question about those extra inches.

  “Jason Sanders,” she croaked, and she stepped into the boardroom.

  Chapter Two

  Jason stared dumbly at the hot brunette whose shower he’d defiled with his muddy body. He might have felt bad about the dumb staring if she weren’t doing the same thing to him.

  And if his brain weren’t seared with the memory of her staring at his crotch with undisguised hunger.

  “Um, Miriam?”

  He watched her jump at the sound of a voice behind her, and he seized the chance to shake off his own trance. Seeming to regain her composure, Miriam turned and looked over her shoulder at whoever was trying to get through the door. A slender woman with her dark hair in a tightly wound topknot gave Miriam a gentle nudge that propelled her into the room.

  Jason offered them both a smile, then stood to greet them. “Hi, there,” he said and reached across the table to shake the new woman’s hand. Then he extended his hand to Miriam, probably lingering longer than necessary with her palm pressed against his. Touching her felt good and warm and soft and necessary, and he was reluctant to break contact with her.

  “I’m Jason Sanders, the new CEO for Urban Trax,” he said, though she’d already spoken his name aloud. Still, it was clear the job title was news to her, and maybe she wanted to pretend she’d just read his name on the meeting agenda. Under the circumstances, he’d understand if she wanted to play it cool. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he added.

  Miriam stared at him like he’d just announced plans to go hang gliding off the building’s roof. Come to think of it, that wasn’t a bad idea. The winds around here were perfect, and he hadn’t seen any power lines and if he could just get his rigging up there for—

  “Miriam,” she blurted. “Miriam Ashley. I’m one of the owners of First Impressions.”

  The sleek brunette with the topknot gave her an odd look, then turned back to Jason. “And I’m Holly Colvin, the other owner. We’ve been working with the rest of your executive team for several months, but it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine,” Jason said, then kicked himself for sounding vaguely creepy. He was still holding Miriam’s hand, which probably wasn’t the best way to demonstrate to any of them that he was a polished, professional leader.

  He let go and sat back down, then realized he was the only person sitting. The rest of the executives were still standing politely, waiting like proper gentlemen until the ladies had seated themselves. He started to stand again, right as the executive team sat back down, which resulted in something that looked like an accidental game of musical chairs.

  A couple of members of the executive team glanced over at him, and he wondered if he was supposed to be leading this meeting or just participating. This wasn’t like a snowshoe tour where he knew exactly what he was supposed to be doing, taking charge of the scheduling and the gear and the opportunity to herd everyone out into the wilderness.

  Something told him this would be a different scene. That “something” might have been the fact that he was the only person at the table who wasn’t toting a laptop or a notepad or a tablet of some sort. Strike one. How the hell was he supposed to know he was expected to come here and take notes?

  He glanced up to see Miriam regarding him with a funny look. She let her gaze drop to the center of the table, and for an instant he hoped she was signaling a desire to meet him underneath for a mid-meeting tryst.

  Then he realized she was directing his attention to a basket filled with notepads stamped with the First Impressions logo and a pile of pens beside it. Jason gave her a silent nod of thanks, then grabbed a pen and a notebook with a red cover. He flipped it open, not entirely sure what to write in it.

  “Why don’t we start with a little get-to-know-you session?” Holly suggested, smiling at everyone around the table. “Jason, since you’re the newest member of the team, we’d love to hear about how you ended up joining Urban Trax.”

  “Absolutely.” He smoothed the lapels of the blazer his sister had insisted he wear. It felt stiff and much too hot, but now that he’d seen how everyone else was outfitted, he was glad he’d worn it. Beside him, the director of marketing gave him an encouraging nod.

  “Right, so, for the past ten years, I’ve operated a tour company called Adrenaline Rush,” Jason said. “We offer everything from bungee jumping to whitewater kayaking to more sedate tours like snowshoeing and zip-lining.”

  “Mr. Sanders started the company himself,” the marketing director boasted, and Jason made a mental note to give the guy a raise. Pete? Pete Marshall, that was it. He was still talking, so Jason shut up and let Pete sing his praises. “Mr. Sanders took his company from being a small start-up with three employees to a franchise with more than six hundred employees and twelve branches in eight Western states.”

  “It’s a big part of why the company hired him,” added Rex Rutherford, the accounting director at the other end of the table. “As we’ve shared before, the Urban Trax stock has been in a bit of a free fall over the last two years. Our hope is that Mr. Sanders can help breathe new life into the company.”

  The COO—Darrin Johnson, was it?—gave a curt nod. “We’re confident he can do it.”

  “Damn straight,” Jason said, before it occurred to him he probably shouldn’t kick off his very first meeting with a curse word. No one seemed offended, but they were all looking at him like he was some sort of strange bird that had flown into the room and they weren’t certain whether he planned to perch happily on a branch or shit all over the table.

  Also, he probably shouldn’t be thinking words like “shit” in a board meeting.

  He looked back at Miriam, hoping maybe she could rescue him from himself. She offered a smile that left him wondering what it might feel like to run his hands up her naked body, and he tried to remember what the hell he’d been talking about.

  “So, Mr. Sanders,” she began, but Jason cut her off.

  “Any chance you folks could just call me Jason?” he asked. “You say ‘Mr. Sanders’ and I’m looking around the room for my dad, thinking he’s going to bust my ass for losing a tent stake or crashing the snowmobile or something. Please, just call me Jason.” He smiled around the table to let everyone know he wasn’t really pissed.

  Everyone looked a little confused.

  Well, everyone except Miriam, who smiled back and began rolling a pen between her palms in a way that made him wonder what else she could do with those hands.

  “Jason.” She held his gaze with hers as she rolled the pen back and forth with agonizing slowness. “Have you had a chance to look over some of the concepts First Impressions was developing with the Urban Trax executive team prior to your arrival?”

  “I did,” he said, nodding a little as he held her gaze.

  “And?”

  Jason cleared his throat and wondered if he should speak his mind or play it cool on his first day.

  They hired you for your mind, dumbass. Might as well give it to them.

  “To be honest,” he said, “they kind of sucked.”

  Miriam stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”

/>   “Not the work itself,” he said, and kicked himself a little for being a dickhead right out of the gate. For God’s sake, he could have done this with a bit more polish.

  But it needed to be said, and he might as well be the one to say it.

  “Look, it’s clear First Impressions does phenomenal work,” he said. “I’m not questioning anyone’s talent or skills or anything like that.”

  “What are you questioning?” Miriam’s tone was surprisingly even, and she didn’t look pissed, which he took as a good sign. Still, there was a glint of something in her eyes. Pride in her work, which he could definitely relate to.

  “I’m sure all the work you guys have done up to this point is exactly the direction the Urban Trax executive team asked you to go,” he said. “And I’m certain any other outdoor goods retailer would be thrilled with it. Hell, Urban Trax has probably been thrilled with it, I imagine.”

  “They were,” Miriam agreed, still eyeing him warily.

  “As well they should be. But it just seems a little too—I don’t know—snooty. The executive team can correct me if I’m wrong here, but I think part of the reason I’ve been hired here is to stir shit up a little.”

  The marketing director winced a little, but he nodded. “We prefer the phrase ‘deviate from the status quo.’”

  “Yeah, that.” Jason rubbed a hand over his chin, remembering that he’d forgotten to shave that morning. Or the morning before that. Or the morning before that.

  “So let me get this straight,” Miriam said. “Instead of the polished, sleek, ‘don’t you wish you had a million-dollar backpack’ sort of campaign Urban Trax has launched in the past, you’re looking for something a bit dirtier.”

  “Dirtier,” Jason repeated, and his mind veered a little at that. “Yes, I suppose you could say that.”

  Miriam nodded, her gaze fixed on his. “I agree.”

  Jason blinked. “You do?”

  “Yes.” She set the pen down and rested her palms on the table. “As a matter of fact, the executive team may recall we proposed something along those lines after our first meeting with them back in October.”